


V is for Vicious

by favefangirl



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ambiguity, Bars, Beer, Blood, Drabble, Forbidden Love, Hunters, Lies, M/M, Missions, Vagueness, Vampire Hunters, Vampires, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-23 21:00:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10727151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/favefangirl/pseuds/favefangirl
Summary: Stiles is sat on the bar nonchalantly, swinging his legs a little, grinning like the Cheshire cat. His caramel eyes are glinting with amusement, regarding Derek like he's the most interesting thing in the world. His long, pale neck is stretched as he tilts his head to the side. Derek can't tell if it's mockingly or suggestively. He's not sure which he'd prefer.





	V is for Vicious

The bar smells of stale beer, blood and death. The laminate flooring underfoot is sticky, but Derek doesn't want to think about what with. He presses on despite the cold trickle of fear down his spine. This is his job, what he's been training to do since he turned thirteen. He has a gun in one hand, a UV torch in the other and a stake tucked into his left boot. He's as prepared as he could hope to be, and it isn't like he's inexperienced.

He swears he hears a noise behind him, like a strong gust of wind, but he doesn't look around to see. This is an old bar, one of the oldest buildings in town, for all he knows, there's a rational explanation for the strange noises. He knows that he really shouldn't be doing this alone, but no one else wanted to come along for what everyone thought would be a suicide mission. He'll make do on his own.

The tables are all upright from what he can see, they're old, made of rotting wood, and smell a little fusty. Most of the chairs are sat where they would be if it were just a normal bar, but some are pushed over like people had been leaving in a hurry. There are still some glasses on the tables, but it's far too dark for him to see what's in them. He hopes beyond hope that it's just alcohol.

He's moving with cat-like grace towards the door at the back. It leads into a hallway where the bathrooms are, but there's a room beyond that, too. He knows it had pool tables in once upon a time. He doesn't know what's in there now. He's not sure he wants to. But that's his destination because if they're not in here, they must be hiding in there like the cowards they are.

He almost reaches the door when a voice drawls from somewhere behind him, "They're not in there."

Derek growls deep in his throat and turns around. Stiles is sat on the bar nonchalantly, swinging his legs a little, grinning like the Cheshire cat. His caramel eyes are glinting with amusement, regarding Derek like he's the most interesting thing in the world. His long, pale neck is stretched as he tilts his head to the side. Derek can't tell if it's mockingly or suggestively. He's not sure which he'd prefer.

"They're all long gone, in fact." Stiles says, conversationally. "I think you might want to check your ranks, _Miguel_ , because you might just have an informant."

"How do I know you didn't tell them? You always seem to know when and where I'll show up." Derek hisses, telling himself he didn't flinch at that name.

Stiles pouts, "Oh, _Miguel_ , you think so little of me?" He hops down from the bar with undeserved grace, "It's not _my_ fault _you're_ so predictable."

He's moving towards Derek, but Derek isn't moving back. He should probably see Stiles as a threat, but he can't bring himself to. Everyone has their demons, Stiles just so happens to be his. Judging by the way Stiles is swaying his hips, strutting with purpose towards him like some sort of cat-walk model, Derek thinks Stiles probably knows the effects he has on Derek, too.

"Why are you all alone, hmm?" Stiles purrs, maybe a foot away now. "No one else wanted to come? Or were you just hoping to see me?"

Up close, Derek can see the moles splattered across Stiles' ghostly white skin, and the silkiness of his brown hair. Stiles steps right into Derek's space, looking up at him with that same mischievous glint in his eyes, that same wide grin on his face. Derek tells himself he hates this kid. Then he tells himself he hates himself because both he and Stiles know that just isn't the truth.

"I didn't even know you'd be here," Derek argues.

It's partly true, he had no way of knowing Stiles would show up at this particular bar at this particular time on this particular night. But he knew there was a chance, and if maybe he spent a little too much time on his hair for just your average mission before he left base, and if maybe he spent a little more time at the gym this week than usual, well then that's all just one big coincidence.

"Don't _lie_ to me," Stiles hisses, like he's genuinely angry, "Not again, _Miguel_."

"Don't." Derek whispers, and this time he really does flinch.

"Why not?" Stiles asks, no longer whispering, taking a step back towards the bar. "Why not? You _lied_ to me!"

"You didn't tell me everything, either!" Derek counters.

Stiles' features harden. He glares at Derek for a minute before hissing loudly, his fangs protruding from his gums, then in another whoosh like the wind, he leaves Derek alone in the bar, clutching his gun just that little bit tighter.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is mostly up for interpretation.  
> It's not something I really have any solid plans of continuing, but I'll maybe add a chapter if I feel like it. I do have a couple of ideas for it, but I'm not really passionate enough about it to make promises.  
> Mostly this is just writing practise, and usually I wouldn't post stuff which I'm not sure is complete (one-shot wise, I mean) but there are some parts of this I kike so I figured I'd post it anyway.  
> Let me know if you'd like to see more, or have any interpretations you'd like to share and I might just continue it one day.  
> Please leave a comment or kudos if you're feeling lovely.  
> Have a wonderful existence.


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